To say she was seething was an understatement.
Ada dug her feet where she stood, glaring at the darkened garden facing her.
The maid alternated between puffing every exhale and biting at her nails.
First Arabella, then Ada as well? What was next?
That peasant got a room and wardrobe of her own before her? That couldn't be!
She couldn't allow it!
But what were her options? There weren't many as she had no power to begin with.
What was so special about Ada? At least, with Arabella she knew her blood was valuable as a nobleman's daughter, but that was all she served.
Ada on the other hand was beneath her even in status. So how come she rose to the rank of entertainer at gatherings before her?
The matter ate at her insides, threatening to perforate her guts any second.
Edna yanked the piece of parchment that linked her to the Dragomir abode and stared at it intently, her last interaction with Lauden in mind.
